


Judgment

by A Magiluna Stormwriter (ariestess)



Category: American Horror Story: Coven
Genre: Female Character of Color, Female Protagonist, Gen, POV Female Character, Post-Series
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-05
Updated: 2014-05-05
Packaged: 2018-01-21 23:57:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,368
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1568564
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ariestess/pseuds/A%20Magiluna%20Stormwriter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Judgment Day isn't always prompt when you're dealing with the ways of magic.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Judgment

**Author's Note:**

  * For [merryghoul](https://archiveofourown.org/users/merryghoul/gifts).



> Author's notes coming soon...

It ain't like I never thought about being nowhere else before. My job on this earth is to help people that need it. Don't matter who those people are either. If they need help and I have the means to help them, I will.

 _What about them babies, Marie?_ That voice is a sibilant whisper wrapping around my soul, tightening the grip that Papa Legba has on me. _How'd you help them?_

I can feel her presence before the bell over the door chimes. Everyone else in the shop continues with their talking and working as if she doesn't even exist. For that matter, they don't seem to notice me either. That's how I know this is some hell-spawned dream from Papa Legba, but I can't seem to wake myself, so clearly he wants to torture me some more.

"What am I doing here?" she asks curiously in that voice gone husky from too much drinking and smoking. For someone who wants immortality, she sure has a strange way of showing it. "Why am I back in this damned shop that caused so much trouble in the first place?"

"My shop didn't cause no trouble, Ms. Supreme."

Eyes narrowing, I walk toward her, studying her closely. There's something off about her. I'm sure that's Papa Legba's doing, but _why_? What does Fiona Goode have to do with me in hell? Besides that whole killing an innocent who wasn't a baby thing that was all _her_ fault.

"You the reason I'm in hell with Madame LaLaurie, you know. I should kill you where you stand."

"You agreed to killing Nan just like I did," she says, hand waving absently to prove her point. "You didn't have to agree to it, and you _know_ I needed to make a deal with Papi Legaboo--"

"Don't!" The word is out of my mouth before I can stop it, body flinching as if expecting Papa Legba to appear and beat me for allowing this bitch to insult him like that. "You pay Papa Legba proper respect when you're in my domicile. I won't have your lack of manners getting me into more trouble with any of the loa, but especially Papa Legba."

She laughs then, head tilted back to let the sound ring in the room. But no one else reacts to her. This really must be a new form of punishment from Papa Legba. I'm not sure what I've done to cause this new level of hell, but anything's better than dealing with Delphine LaLaurie for eternity. The longer I listen to her laugh, the more clearly I can hear that edge of hysteria. Damn.

"You think I care about what happens to you? If it hadn't been for you, I'd never have needed to meet your damned Papa Leg-and-Thigh-Quarter." She levels her gaze on me again, bright moisture clinging to her lashes to give her internal turmoil and insanity more credence. "I should still be alive. I should still be Supreme. I should've been killing off all those stuck up little bitches who thought they'd be the next Supreme and take my vitality away from me."

"Is that all you go on about in hell? That must be Papa Legba's own personal hell to have to listen to you bitching and moaning from sunup to sundown about how selfish you are."

The words are barely out of my mouth when it hits me. The pain blossoms out from my chest, radiating along all of my nerves until my entire body feels like it's on fire. Looking down, I see no evidence of what's causing this god-awful ache in my body that's got my vision blurring with each wave of agony coursing through me. A soft grunt from across the way pulls me temporarily from my own distress to see Fiona bent double in what must be the same pain I'm feeling, judging by how she's feebly clutching at her chest.

"What-- What did you do to me, you voodoo bitch?"

"Not a single thing."

They're my words, but that's not my voice saying them. It's not her voice either, nor that of any of my girls or their customers, all of whom seem to have just disappeared. Confusion overrides some of the pain, enough to look around for the source of the voice.

"I'm over here, _ma cher_. This is a comfortable chair you got here. You treat all your customers to this kind of comfort?"

"Papa Legba…" Without thought, I bow my head deferentially and close my eyes for a moment.

"So you can remember your master now, can you?" His dark laughter fills the room, wrapping around me like a bale of the softest cotton ever combed. "Tell me, Marie Laveau, have you learned anything in your hellish prison with Madame Delphine LaLaurie?"

"Only that I despise her even more than I ever did. Devil woman caused me too much heartache over the years. And that witch bitch" -- I point over at Fiona, still bent double with pain -- "never should have dug her up again. If Madame LaLaurie had stayed in her eternal tomb, none of this shit would have happened."

"So you'd have continued to pay your dues to Papa Legba if the witches of Salem hadn't interfered and broke the truce between your clan and their coven?"

I frown at that, wondering what he's getting at. I haven't survived as long as I have by being stupid or naïve. "Your curse gave me the immortality I needed to be able to help my people. I'd do anything to protect them. But you know that already. It was how you got me to agree to your curse and do your bidding."

He smiles then, the sight odd in its rarity, especially as he glances over to Fiona with a laugh and she begins to dance a terrible parody of a jig. It looks like she's a puppet on strings that's being handled by an inexperienced master with the attention span of a hyperactive child hopped up on too much sugar.

"And your pact with her? What of that?"

"I'm not sure I understand."

"If you were to be given the chance to go back and relive the last several months, in particular, of your life, would you do things any differently?"

The pain has receded in the face of bald curiosity, allowing me to cross my arms over my chest and study Fiona's wildly gesticulating body for a long moment or two before answering him. "Would I retain the memories of what _has_ happened?"

"Well now, Marie, why would I do such a benevolent thing for you? Have you ever known me to offer such a boon before?"

My lips purse at his response. I shouldn't even be surprised by it any longer, but somehow he still finds a way to make me regret that damned deal so long ago. "So if I don't remember what I've done, how am I supposed to do anything but repeat it again?"

"That's the test then, isn't it, Marie?" His smile is malevolent, oily, eyes unblinking like a snake's. "What's your answer?"

I consider this for long moments, reliving those last several months of my life, all the people I helped, the babes sacrificed to keep my own life going, even my pact with Fiona Goode and the descendants of the Salem witches.

"If I end up doing the same thing, would I still be in hell with Madame LaLaurie?" His dark chuckle sends a shiver down my spine, but I know he won't give me the answer I want to hear. "Fine. If it means I help save any of my clan, my community, I'd do it all over again."

There's no answer for a long moment, his eyes boring into mine until I have to drop my gaze, even if I don't want to. The minute I break eye contact, in that simple blink of time, I find myself back in hell with the bitch that destroyed my poor Bastien.

"You not ready for a second chance yet, are you?" The bitch's voice is like acid poured into a wound, and yet she sounds resigned, too.

"I guess not."


End file.
